


You Will Love Him To Ruins

by laurelsalexis



Category: The Good Wife (TV)
Genre: Canon Character of Color, Cary is a bit of a mess, Character Study, F/M, POV Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-12 22:37:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4497363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurelsalexis/pseuds/laurelsalexis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was never his.<br/>Post 6x22</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Will Love Him To Ruins

**Author's Note:**

> Poor, sweet Cary. He's really had a rough go of it. i just felt the need to explore all of that, and I'm far too aware of just how unpopular Cary x Dana is, but I think they're dynamic was always extremely interesting (shrugs) & I really needed someone he knew on a Kalinda kind of level.
> 
>  
> 
> Fair warning Cary is a bit of a disaster. I kind of took a Criminal Minds approach, and have a lot of his issues set in months later. The whole Bishop disaster + Kalinda leaving does not sit well with him.
> 
>  
> 
> If the show won't deal properly with his issues then I will touch on them.

Kalinda’s been gone, well, he wasn't _entirely_ sure. The number didn't really matter, did it? Alicia advised him to stop keeping track,  _‘it’s only going to hurt more, Cary.’_  Reluctantly, he did manage to take her advice. Mostly. Cary was never good at listening without objecting at least a little.

He suspected Alicia knew as much as their friendship grew. Things were better now that the two weren't working together. There was some kind of irony there. If she was going to drag him to one more silly outing to distract his mind he was going to go nuts, however. He had come to respect both of the Florricks' in his own time. He always did like Peter, no matter what transpired between them professionally, the same could be said for Alicia. 

He spent more time with that family than he did his own. Most recently at some stupid tree lighting. Christmas time in Chicago was magical, or so he was told. The holidays were not always his favorite. Ever since the day he left that house at eighteen things were _strained_ , at best. The Florricks' had been through worse, yet, he could see the way Zach and Grace loved both of their parents. It almost made him envious. It distracted him from the past year if nothing else. The point, obviously. Alicia trying to be a friend, take his mind off of Kalinda. 

Never did he think he would be standing there with her, and Kalinda would be gone. He never expected the former in house investigator to stay in his life forever, no. That was not the kind of girl she was. She didn't settle down. She slept with who she wanted, whenever she wanted, occasionally it was him, occasionally it was one of the many women in her life. Nothing about her was stable. Nothing about what their relationship was happened to be stable. 

Cary wasn't anymore stable with her out of his life now, than he was when they were playing a game of cat and mouse. 

As he sat in the bar, nursing a scotch, thoughts of her were everywhere. Drink number two did nothing to help the focus he once had when he was sitting behind his desk in his office. Or at least he thought it was drink number two. A cloud hung over his head did nothing to help the clarity he was searching for ever since he knew she was gone. Clarity a part of him feared he would never find, whether it be personally or professionally. 

Lost in his thoughts it was harder to find that center. Certainly as he drank the rest of his scotch with drink number three on the horizon. That kind of night in which he was thankful he managed to seek out the bar closer to his apartment, rather than the law offices. 

The past year effected him more than any other period in his life. The time his father sent him out the door at eighteen, working his ass off through college, even his time in the Peace Corps didn't measure up to the psychological torture that the last year did to him. 

He hated thinking about it, but some nights it was the only thing he could think of. The only thing he had left was his job. A good job, a great one, actually, one he loved more than anything, but there was more to life than a job. Being a lawyer was where Cary belonged, his place in the world, so to speak. If nothing else it was something he had. 

His jail time, along with the trial, the guilty plea, the entire disaster that almost ended his career something that still kept him awake at night. As thoughts ran through his mind a mile a minute his eyes set upon his palm, free hand setting the drink down against the bar top, running over where there was once a gash. Not the first time he'd been on the receiving of violence he hadn't sought out. 

After everything he'd been through Nick wasn't not on his radar anymore. The night he had the shit beat out of him is nothing but a painful memory, not nearly as painful as his time looking at his life as if everything were falling apart. Some pieces managed to come back together. Not everything did. Kalinda was an example of something he lost, something he would never get back, and something he blamed himself for. 

If it wasn't for the mess he found himself in she never would have had to leave. Some nights he thought that maybe, just _maybe_ , he could have fixed everything for her. It never mattered what was going on between the two of them. He cared about her, cared about her enough to want her to live the life she was living, in Chicago, to not need to run from anything. 

The loss of Kalinda hit him harder than he would allow for anyone to see. It shook him to his very core. For the past six years she was the biggest part of his life. Whether they were friends, lovers, or at odds, there was simply no one who made the impact that she did. She was gone. It was just him, filled with a sense of emptiness. Alone, nursing the drink, thoughts of her clouding his mind at every turn. Wasn't it supposed to get easier? Or maybe he was just doomed. That felt more dramatic than Cary ever dared to be. 

The fact that she just _left_ did nothing to help him. It was amazing how a city as big as Chicago was made him feel as if he was suffocating, a reminder of her at every turn. A face he would never see again in the flesh, but one he could picture at any inopportune time. 

It would never be something he'd move on from entirely, the guilt that washed him over him at the mere thought of it. Yeah, he needed another drink. 

The drinking helped him to cope with the utter disaster his life had become, along with the way it seemed to remain. Even when things looked up, like they had with his friendship with Alicia, or the way work was going, it was as if he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. It wasn't healthy, no one needed to tell him that. 

Cary never had the healthiest of habits to begin with. The drugs, the drinking, the sex, all fun, but none of them particularly good. 

The booze is what appealed to him the most. At that rate he'd need the entire bottle. 

Soon he was offered some relief from his thoughts as the empty seat next to him became filled. It certainly wasn't unusual as he found he was rarely alone for long. Usually a seat filled by Alicia or Kalinda, or a girl who had to work up the courage, in liquid form, in order to flirt with him, as she looked for one thing. Tonight he'd welcome that as he did most other nights. 

Only it was none of the above. 

It wasn't a stranger. Nothing about him tensed at the feeling of being around someone new. He almost wished it was Alicia just so they could drink, quietly. It wasn't. 

Not that it was Kalinda either. That went without saying. It'd never be Kalinda in that seat next to him again. No matter what he might've wished for. She was gone. She wasn't coming back. He had no choice but to accept that. 

The relief from his thoughts didn't last long as thoughts of Kalinda sitting in the seat next to him flood his memory. 

_She only sat next to him for a moment before his entire body shifts to her, a crooked smile gracing his lips, entire face softening as he set his gaze upon her. Neither of them need to speak. She can read him like a book, and over time, he'd learn to be able to do the same. She could fool others, just not him. He liked to think in their years of growing closer that things she says and feels were real, that she wasn't only using him for some kind of endgame. In the end, he was fooling himself. That never stopped his own feelings from overwhelming him, causing him to look at her like she's the only one he could ever want._

_One day his feelings will backfire on him, leaving him with an ache in his chest that will threaten to swallow him whole, but now, as they sit there together, nursing their respective drinks none of that seemed to matter much to him._

_With her it was a game, always had been. She used that to get what she wants. He played along. Cary had a nasty habit of chasing affection where he was never going to get it. Not just with her, but with his father. If only he let go long before maybe he would be more functional of a person than he was now._

_It took him years to realize that his father was never going to be the father he wanted or the father he needed. Too many years. It always made him wonder how he could use his own child as he did. His father was what closed Cary off from the rest of his family. He rarely spoke to them, not unless the situation was dire. Mostly updates because his father would press on and on. He was not the type to volunteer information up about his life, not anymore. He finally learned to let his father go, along with the expectations he had for him. It was a freedom._

_Only he didn't let go of that when it came to Kalinda. The more he learned about her the more he wanted to learn about her. She was closed off in a way he hadn't really seen before, yet, open enough that he knew her tells, knew what she wanted when she wanted, even if he did not particularly care for it. He accepted her as she was._

_His actions only change out of hurt. He never did well in masking when he was in pain._

_Still he sat there, gazing at her, pushing all of his thoughts aside. Those didn't matter in the morning. They might in a week, a month, a year, when he's searching for comfort in the bottom of a bottle instead of a woman he was drawn to since the moment he met her._

_It was better than nothing._

_Better than nothing was exactly why he closed the last remaining distance between the two, pushing away such thoughts as his lips collided with hers._

The memory is one that faded as he was pulled from his thoughts, glancing over to the one who joined him. Probably one of the last people he ever expected to see. 

“Dana Lodge as I live and breathe.” He doesn't do well at hiding his surprise. 

Her face is one he least expected, certainly since the last time the pair saw one another he was still at the State's Attorney's office. That seemed as if it was a lifetime ago after all that he'd been through since then. His career was always kind of a roller coaster, moving more than anyone else he knew. 

The way things ended between the two of them he didn't expect for them to stay in touch, which they didn't, but he certainly didn't expect that the two would ever come across one another again. One example of how big yet small Chicago could be. If you tried enough you could find yourself avoiding all the people your life was better off without. He suspected that was what happened between the two of them. When he was with Dana he liked her, he had fun, and they got on well. Things ended in one of those all too messy ways, as most things did when it came to Cary. 

“Buy me a drink.” It wasn't a request.  

His eyes tear from her, alerting the bartender they're in need of something to drink, moments later both with drinks before them. Her first, his third, at least. 

The way Dana watched it felt as as if her eyes were burning straight through his skill. 

“How’s your soul selling work?” Her voice sounded so casual. 

Her question earns that classic Cary Agos grin. “We’re not going to his small talk, are we?”  

She shrugged.  

“It's good.” He answered anyway. It's the truth, mostly. He doesn't allow for the silence to linger between the two of them for long. “So what do you want?” 

He'd blame Kalinda for that, not being able to talk with most people without asking that question. Certainly not someone that had been absent from his life for so long. Cary would definitely blame Agos Senior, too. A man who only came through his life when he was in need of something, and even then it would backfire right in Cary's face. 

Weren't girls supposed to go for guys like their fathers, not the other way around? 

“Nothing.” She sounded innocent, his eyes still set upon her as she takes a sip of the drink. 

If only he could believe her. He wasn't much for believing people anymore. 

He drank most of his drink in a single gulp before turning his body to her, angling his head as he studied her. She looked the same. Maybe a hair older if he had to pick something. She was still as pretty as ever, her hair down and long, curled, he always did like it when it was like that. The black leather jacket perfectly tailored to her. It should remind him of Kalinda, but for the first time, it doesn't. It was Dana, completely and entirely _Dana_. He was thankful for that. 

“You look good.” He complimented. 

“Can say the same for you. Blondie at the end of the bar looks a bit upset she lost out on her chance to sleep you with now that I sat down.” 

“Maybe it's you, she's eying.” 

She laughed, and he hated himself for how much he enjoyed it. 

“I'm still not a lesbian.” 

“You like sex and sure as hell always seemed _close_...” He chose not to say her name, it wasn't as if either of them would come to question who he meant. 

“So do you, like sex, that is.” Her glass hits the bar top, empty. “Fuck any men lately?” 

Cary calls the bartender over for another. “Hey, Matan and I have gotten quite close.” 

They burst out laughing at the same time. 

The elephant in the room was one they've both seemed to ignore. He wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing. Maybe the newly acquainted alcohol would help him to answer that question. He gave the bartender an appreciative nod, taking a long sip, leaving some behind, for if he drank any faster he'd be on the way to completely trashed any second. He was only a _little_ trashed. Or maybe that was just his ego pretending he was getting better at holding his alcohol with age, not worse. 

“It's been a while.” With the years that passed it seems like an understatement. 

He didn't expect for things to be different, not with how messy the end of their relationship was. After the two of them went their separate ways he did not expect to see her again. Certainly not now, not in this bar. Maybe they would have run into one another on the street or in a court room making nice, or ignoring one another unless they _needed_ to talk. 

But now she was sitting next to him, and looking at him like nothing changed. 

They had fun together when they were in a relationship together. From the outside looking in, it could definitely be a bit on the twisted side, with their little games, usually played behind the locked door of his bedroom. Still, the memories are good ones. He was never broken up that his relationship with her put him back in that tiny office. Peter favored him right from the beginning for what he assumed to be his past connection to Alicia, to hurt her, the firm, and Will. 

Everything seemed so simple in the past. 

He talked to Peter now and again, was privy to a few inner workings to his Presidential campaign now that he was closer with Alicia. But Will was dead. He wondered if Dana knew that, it was hard to imagine she didn't. His death was rather public, taking a toll on everyone. He also came to wonder if she knew Kalinda was gone, knew of the very public mess of a trial he found himself immersed in, and how everything was so completely fucked. 

He doubted the last part she knew anything of, the rest fair game. 

“Maybe,” she inches closer to him, “I just wanted to see you.”  

Her breath was heavy against her lips, surging something within him. He'd blame the alcohol, mostly, or the fact that he's a red blooded male, one who didn't exactly practice the habits a younger Cary would have. She was still hot, and he hadn't gotten laid in a hell of a long time, throw in some alcohol, and that heavy breath made him want to close the rest of the distance between the two, no matter how public they were. Not that they had any reason to hide now, not like before. 

Soon he came to his senses, pulling back just a hair, not entirely trusting himself that he wouldn't fall right into whatever little trap she was setting. Or maybe he was just making her out to be a lot more vindictive than she ever was. 

Still, a scoff slips past him, bringing the glass to his lips, creating a bit of distance between the two of them, finishing off his drink. He didn't quite know if he wanted another so he let the glass rest. 

“You never returned any of my calls after you walked out of my office, you didn't call when I was on trial. You didn't want to see me and _now_ you did. What do you want?” 

Contrary to how bitter his voice sound as he spoke, he was anything but. He didn't harbor anything against her as the radio silence fell between the two of them. It was the truth, whether or not she, or even, _he_ , believed. 

“Not here.” She said as she stood, finishing the rest of her drink with an ease. 

His eyes shot up to her, watching, his gaze keeping as she walked away from him, clearly expecting for him to follow. They will both end up in his apartment. A classic Dana move with her in control. He never minded and he didn't mind then, certainly not as he stood up. It was all against his better judgment, paying for the drinks, before he followed her out of the bar. 

The cold, freezing really, Chicago air hits him the minute he steps out of the bar, a bit wobbly on his feet from the drinking. They don't linger, nobody really lingers with how fucking cold it gets, but they don't really talk either. He led them back to his apartment building a few blocks down. The sun set long ago, but the city streets are lit up by Christmas lights, sounds of bells could be heard from every angle. 

It was nice, even if all he could think about was how much his head was a fuzzy disaster, trying not to look like an idiot before they reached his place. 

It took longer than he ever remembered it taking before they reach the building. The silence still weighing heavy between the two, but it wasn't awkward. He thanked God for that. As the two made their way to the elevator they found their bodies drifting together, and he had half the idea to reach out for her, bring her closer to him, but he refrained. A miracle he had any self control left. 

They stood a little too close together in the elevator and his thoughts shifted to something other than pure thoughts. But really, when ever had his thoughts ever been all that pure? Certainly as he didn't believe they would make it through the rest of the night with their clothes on. A lot of things were a bit of a mess between the two of them, but the one thing that always worked without fail was, sex. 

Something that stemmed from how attracted he found himself to her. He spent a hell of a long time trying to get her into his bed. Her not wanting to sleep with someone she worked with valid, probably something that both should have kept to. Or at least followed through all those conversations about how they should have stopped. Far too hard to really stick to anything when inside someone. 

“Still live in the same place, I see.” Dana finally came to break the silence as the elevator door opens, the pair walking down the hall to his door. 

“Yep.” Not that he needed to answer.

Cary let the two of them into his apartment, tossing his keys onto the counter, them sliding a bit too far, knocking a glass into the sink, one that broke. _Smooth_ , was all he could think, but ultimately kept walking, seeking out the warmth his place had to offer. He lost his coat, shrugging it onto the arm rest of the chair, turning to watch her. The light came, thanks to her, and suddenly they are alone. Being alone in public or even an elevator was not the same as being the only two in his apartment. 

He turned from her almost as fast as he had come to look at her, walking further into the living room. Files were scattered everywhere, making his table a bit of a disaster. Still, it didn't stop him from seeking out the couch, plopping himself down onto it, shutting his eyes for a moment, allowing himself to collect his thoughts. A moment in which he didn't think of how Dana fucking Lodge is standing in his apartment, but focusing on just how not sober he is with Dana Fucking Lodge in his apartment. 

The very apartment that hardly changed in recent years. It was the same as ever. The only thing that ever seemed to change was whether or not Dana or Kalinda were in it. Occasionally Alicia or Diane would stop by, the former social, the latter business, otherwise it was just him. Alone. Making it feel as if it was some kind of mansion, instead of the run of the mill bachelor pad that was all his. Maybe he should have used it for more bachelor activities, instead of spending most of his time in his office. 

He lived in his apartment, but he didn't really live there. 

His office was a new kind of home. He almost preferred it that way, to focus on something good. Work finally became something good for him. Finally. No matter what else happened that was something he wanted to focus on. 

“I need your help.” It was reluctant. 

Her words pull him from his thoughts, opening his eyes to set his gaze upon her. The last thing Cary happened to be was surprised. Most people needed something from him, one way or another. The name of the game, really, even with Kalinda gone. His favors weren't quite as frequent when it was her asking something of him nearly every week, but ex-girlfriends don't seek out their ex-boyfriends for many things. And since he doubted she had his kid running around somewhere, a favor it was. 

“With what?” 

“With.” She pulled a few files out of her bag, before walking to join him on the couch, sitting down next to him, curling a leg under her body. “This.” 

Cary grabbed them from her without hesitation. He was a bit too drunk for this, but it wasn't as if he was going to be walking in a courtroom in the next ten minutes. Most of the reading done is him just skimming the page, trying to keep his face as neutral as possible. “I'm not sure you're supposed to be working in the State's Attorney's office and then find a defense lawyer.” It was a joke, mostly. A bad one. He did send a case to Alicia once upon a time. It was different, though. That girl deserved to find her justice, but this, this case said something else entirely. “Who is this guy?” 

“My brother.” 

He looked at her then, a knowing look, a look of understanding that this just wasn't any run of the mill case. It meant something to her. Dana wasn't often vulnerable. Any of the women in his life seemed to be infinitely strong, not allow for emotion to override them, not in the way he noticed that look on her face, as if she was going to plead with him if he was to reject her. 

Everything pointed to him being guilty. He managed to find a few threads that could be use for reasonable doubt, but he didn't think it would be enough to get the jury to come back with a not guilty verdict. Even with his idea of defending someone being a hell of a lot easier than prosecuting, he knew sometimes cases were a little too cut and dry. The only thing he could think of was trying to break down the prosecution’s case, try to see if the office was as corrupt as they said it was. It never seemed to remain as clean as they all hoped it would be. 

“You're not giving me much to work with here.” And he didn't have Kalinda. He didn't say that but it was the thought in his mind. She was good. He'd never met anyone better. Robyn was good, but she'd never be Kalinda. 

“I know.” She was still hopeful though. 

He shut the file, leaving it to rest on his lap. “Do you think he did it?” 

“Does it matter?” She asked after staring at him, as if she was unwilling to answer. 

He shrugged. “No, I'm asking anyway.” 

“No, I don't.” 

Cary wasn't exactly sure if she was lying to him or not, or if she was talking as a prosecutor over a sister. Whether or not he did it, didn't really seem to matter. Not when it came to being a defense attorney. Of course it would be nice to only deal with innocent men and women, but the world wasn't as black and white. The moral clarity he claimed to have enjoyed simply didn't exist. Humans were not capable of such distinctions, and she certainly wasn't as they were talking about her brother. 

He wasn't close with his sister, but if she was in this kind of trouble he'd do everything he could to help her. Surely, his father would call with a long list of demands if that was the case. That was neither here nor there. 

“I need a drink.” She spoke and stood, walking to his kitchen, digging through it before she found the vodka. She didn't bother with a glass and took a swig straight from the bottle. 

“Bring it here.” Even though Cary had twice as much to drink as her, and no food, it didn't stop the bottle from looking appealing in her hand. 

When she sat down he swiped the bottle from her and took a long swig, throwing the file on top of the pile of cases he was already working on. He didn't really need another case, nor did he really have time for it, but she was a friend. Maybe. Not really, the more he thought about it. They were friends, then they were lovers, only to find that they weren't anything in the end. 

Being a lawyer was something he loved. Even if it often made him so busy he barely had a moment to breathe. The only peace he ever seemed to find was when he was in the shower, washing away whatever sins he committed that day, or the night before when he was too tired to care, just falling onto his bed before sleep overcame him. It was good, though. It made him not think about everything else. The only time he could sleep was when he was too exhausted to move, falling into a coma where his dreams were about stupid things he thought were long forgotten. 

“Convince me.” He finally said, taking another sip before handing the bottle over to her. 

Truth to be told, Cary already made a decision. He knew what he was planning on doing. It was simply that she didn't know what he was going to do. He was too drunk to care. Too drunk to really think and talk about it like he knew she would want to. Too drunk to do anything but have some of his own fun. Nothing about it was smart, but most of the time, the last thing he did was make smart decisions. 

He looked at her expectantly, waiting to see what she would do, a stupid grin on his face. She set the bottle down on the table before moving to straddle him. It was all a very bad idea, but the weight of her is nice. He would likely enjoy the weight of anyone, but Dana had always been a bit more attractive than most that passed through his life. 

His fingers reach out to tug at the zipper of her leather jacket. It looks good on her. Too good. He has half a mind to say that, but she'd tease him, rather than take the compliment so he doesn't. Instead he followed it along the curve of her torso, exposing the black and white patterned blouse beneath it. 

“Leather looks good on you.” He whispered, finding something utterly amusing about what the jacket said, versus her professional lawyer clothes underneath. 

Dana just smirked, pulling the jacket off, throwing it on the chair at the side. “Tell me about Kalinda.” 

He wasn't stupid enough to think the two would never make it back to this place. Kalinda was always a giant elephant between the two of them, even if there was really nothing there. Or at least he would say there was nothing there, when in reality there was everything about Kalinda that lingered between the two. 

“Nothing to tell.” It was going to take Dana exactly three seconds to figure out that Cary was a big lying liar who lies. 

“Cary.” And that was the tone that was calling him out on it. 

If only he wasn't so stubborn. “Nothing to tell.” 

Her eyebrow raised then, her body moving against him just enough to make him feel something, something good. He wanted more but she stopped. Her little game. Give him pleasure, but take it away if she didn't get the answers she wanted. Cruel woman, of course that made her a smart one too. 

“She's gone. “ He shrugged, as if it were just another minute detail. “Left.” His hand reached to tuck a few strands of her fallen hair behind her ears. 

“You love her.” 

“She was never mine.” God, this was so not a conversation he wanted to have. Actually, he preferred if they didn't speak about this at all, but there they were. His feelings for Kalinda felt as if they could destroy himself some days. He was slowly moving on. Slowly. One day a time would come in which he didn't look back and wonder what could have been between them. It was the lack of closure over anything else, he decided. “Maybe I could have loved her, but she was Kalinda.” 

Cary hoped that Dana would just understand what he meant. His feelings for her lasted, followed him wherever he went, had caused him pain he didn't know he was able to feel. Only she was never his to have. After that kiss they shared in his office nothing was ever the same after that. He went back to Dana, Kalinda found others to distract her, they were at odds. He and Kalinda never talked about all that transpired during those moments, after that they barely did any talking at all. 

Falling into bed with her was easy, the sex was good, it was nice to be near her. He just wasn't the only one that was near her, nor would he ever be. She had her women. He never wanted for her to give that up, to pretend she was something she wasn't. They were on two different paths. Now she was gone. He was in Chicago, wishing that he and Dana were doing more fucking and less talking, but that didn't seem to be the case. 

If she couldn't give him fourteen days, there wasn't much she could ever give him. It never felt unreasonable, such a simple request. Two weeks so he didn't feel as if he was going insane. Two weeks to make him feel like maybe she cared about him the way he cared about her. She cared, sure, he knew it, even in those moments when he wished things could be different, if only for a moment, but they were in two different relationships, if it could be called that much. They'd never find that common thread. It was good, until it wasn't. 

Maybe if Cary hadn't found himself in a heap of legal trouble he could have handled it, but everything felt as if it was slipping away from him. She'd been one of the few stable things in his life, and he wanted a few moments of thinking that she was just his. Not his and half of Chicago's. He liked Kalinda for everything she was, and how she apologized for nothing. His broken down mental state at the time didn't do anything to help him not want something more. 

They were never going to have that stereotypical happy ending. They were not going to have a white picket fence, a few kids, live this happy little life. That was not Kalinda Sharma. It didn't matter if it was with him, or the many others who found the way to her bed. Cary never found himself under the impression they would have that life. It just took him a bit longer to realize that being a lawyer and part time lover to Kalinda was not what his happy ending looked liked. 

He could be forty with a good job, and a sometimes girlfriend. He didn't want to end up like Will. 

Cary came out of his thoughts and focused back on her, patiently staring at him, waiting for him to say something, it seemed. 

“What's your fascination with her? You said you didn't wanna fuck her.” He pulled it back to sex. After all, Dana talked about sex a hell of a lot, and Kalinda, well, most things went back to sex with her. 

“I didn't. I don't.” She replied, her hands clasping behind his neck, fingers running through his hair absently. 

“Then?” 

“You were hung up.” 

“Maybe. Lotta good that did me.” Now he was bitter. 

And she was curious. “What happened?' 

No matter that he didn't want to answer he found himself answering anyhow. “Kalinda was _Kalinda_. Love wasn't...none of it mattered. She would never break out of her habits.” It wasn't bad, it just happened to be sad if you were on the receiving end of it, and he was. She never could fake it with him. That was how he knew that things were never what they seemed between the two of them. They seemed happy, content, find in this illusion, but they weren't. He would never trade the time he had with her for anything in the world. They had a good ride, he would have never been able to quit her if she didn't leave, but she had, and one day he would be better off. 

He would get over it. He was getting over it. It was just a hell of a slow process. 

Alicia got over Will. Eventually. Or so he assumed. Then again he was dead. It was different, similar threads, but Kalinda was alive. She might as well have been dead, though. He didn't think he'd ever see her in this lifetime or the next. 

Finally, she moved her body against him again. Something he much preferred to the conversation, something his body much preferred as it hardly took him long to react. A bit pathetic, but too drunk to care. 

“What's the sex like?” She questioned with a whisper, brushing her lips against his. 

That earned her a smile. “There's the Dana Lodge I remember.” 

“What?” 

“Nothing.” 

“You should've just fucked her.” Cary mumbled before stealing a kiss. It felt like old times, which was bad, he knew. Nothing about this line of conversation was normal, but he couldn't find it in him to care with the feel of her lips on his. 

She kissed him back, thankfully, pausing the conversation for at least a few moments. His hands found their way underneath her blouse, the feel of her heated skin underneath his palms doing nothing to steady him, instead only causing his kiss to air on the side of desperation, as if her lips would leave, and he would die from the lack of contact. 

At least until they had to break for that stupid need to breathe. 

“I told you, I'm not a lesbian.” 

“Neither was she.” He whispered as his lips moved along her jawline, his hands exploring until the fabric of her bra was felt. 

“Sometimes a girl uses her position as third wheel to her advantage.” 

He stopped then, moving his head back to look at her. “You weren't third wheel.” 

It was clear she didn't believe him. 

“You made yourself third wheel. You played that game with Kalinda, you and Wendy fucked that thing with Will thing good and hard.” His hands fell away, only to remove the shirt from her body. “I chose you. I liked you. You brought Kalinda in. I didn't stop you, but it wasn't as if I needed you talking about her to get me off.” 

Cary wouldn't deny what he had felt for Kalinda. It was there. But that night in his office he made a choice. He kissed Kalinda but he wasn't going to fuck up whatever he had with Dana because of it. They played these dirty little games. She'd always come back and tell him about her nights with Kalinda. They'd fuck. They'd have conversations he never touched on again, even though he was all too aware of what Kalinda knew. She never spoke of it, but that look in her eye, combined with that look in Dana's eye. They shared more than he'd of probably liked. 

He and Kalinda never quite recovered from all that happened that year. From Dana to him arresting her, to the grand jury mess. Arguably it all started out the minute she started to shut him out because of what happened with Alicia. He didn't think Kalinda ever quite came to recover from that either. Life was messy. Life when it came to Kalinda was just as messy. Bridges were burned, and it was hard to build them up. 

She was gone and he was tired of dwelling on it. Dana didn't make it easy, even as she was straddling him, with her shirt thrown to the side. 

“Did you do it?” 

With that she lost him. They clearly moved on from Kalinda, thankfully. For now. He never was able to read Dana when it came to Kalinda. Did she like her? Did she want to fuck her? Was she playing some weird, jealous game he didn't get? All he ever knew was the sex was good, and she was fired up about her job always. That and she didn't tend to linger in these deep conversations. She got the information she wanted and then she would move onto the next topic that found it's way through her mind. 

“Do what?” And he followed along. 

“Lemond Bishop?” 

“Does it matter?” 

“Maybe I don't screw the guilty.” Her words are cheeky, brushing her lips against his once more, pushing herself flush against him. 

“We're all guilty of something.” 

His own way to keep this all a mystery. What he wouldn't tell her was his thought process of taking that deal in Barcelona. It would make him Bishop's little bitch for the rest of his life, but what did he have to lose? At the time there wasn't much. His law career was slipping away from him faster than he could think. Kalinda was hardly anything he could call his. His relationship with his family was non-existent. He rarely talked to his dad, forget his mother and sister. 

Not that Barcelona or prison time ever came to be. He didn't need to admit that maybe for a short time he did entertain the thought of having another life. 

Now he was there with her, wishing they could stop talking. 

“We didn't talk this much when we were dating.” She mumbled before it was her who initiated the kiss. A kiss that was more reckless, no thinking going on between the two, more teeth than anything, pulling him back to the not so gentle moments of their time spent on that very couch. It didn't start out as sweet, and it never turned into that. 

His hands came to rest in her hair, tugging harshly, hips hardly keeping still as he craved more. His body felt as if it were on fire, desperate for some kind of touch from her. Any touch. More than what they were giving each other now. More. It always seemed as if he needed and wanted more. From her, from others, from life. As they were on the couch it was coming from a lust filled hazed. One he had been in since the moment in the bar when he could feel her breath upon his lips. 

“We were fucking more than dating.” He whispered, barely able to get the words out before his lips were on hers again. He was unwilling to break, unwilling to let her go, if only for a moment. She ignited something within him that needed to be ignited. Whether it be from her or anyone else. It didn't matter. What mattered was the way her lips parted just enough and he was able to kiss her with a sloppy, drunken intensity. Their position on the couch was doing him no favors. 

“That's because you can't keep your dick in your pants.” She panted, moving down to cup him through his pants. 

Cary tried to keep from letting out a moan, he wasn't successful. “Me? You talk about sex every chance you get.” 

“I do not.” 

“It's been five minutes. You might die soon. Hurry up. Better work it into the conversation.” 

“Or maybe I'll just work myself up then off.” She worked her palm against him. “Not that I need to. Hard enough for you, Mr. Agos?” 

“Could be harder.” A whisper, taking a series of kisses from her. 

Only it didn't last long before she stood from his lap, looking down at him and taking the bottle of vodka, making her way to his room. 

“You're gonna end up drinking me dry.” Not necessarily anything he was complaining about as he rose from the couch and followed her to his room. He was painfully overdressed, loosening his tie, discarding it on the floor, his shirt the next to go, almost just tearing the damn thing off with how complicated working all of the stupid little buttons could be while intoxicated. 

“Okay dad. I'll watch myself.” 

He couldn't help but laugh. “If this is going to turn into some kinky 'daddy' thing I'm need way more to drink, babe. Way more.” 

Dana held her hands up in surrender. “I don't have _that_ many issues, Agos.” 

“Thank God for that.” 

She stood there with her eyes locked on him, taking a few sips from the bottle. It burns, in a good way. The wheels inside her mind are turning. “You know I've never been tied up.” 

Out of all the things that she could have said at that moment that was something last on the list, or at the very least very low. He doesn't falter though, just a drunken, lazy grin. “Next you're going to tell me you haven't been fucked in the ass either.” 

“Well, I haven't.” The conversation all too casual, taking one last sip before setting the bottle down on his nightstand. Her pants are quickly lost, pooled on the floor. “There's a lot you don't know about me, Cary.” 

“Clearly.” 

“Does it bother you?” 

“That you haven't starred in a hardcore porno? I think I can manage to look past that.” 

“No, the whole idea of idea.” 

He shrugged, certainly not the conversation he was expecting to have when they moved to his room. “Do I scream 'guy who likes to tie up girls?'” 

“You scream guy has no control.” 

Cary hated how she could do that, just read him like they'd been together for years, and she knew him better than anyone else in the world. Of course she was right, he didn't have much control anymore. Over the past year everything spiraled out of control, and he wasn't in a position where he could do something about it. From there he never quite recovered. The longer he stayed in Chicago the more everything seemed to spiral out of control. He'd moved from private firm and to the State's attorney, back to the private sector where everything spiraled out of control until he was nursing a wound on his hand. He'd narrowly escaped. It had been a while since those events, but they had left their lingering mark on him, one he didn't think he was going to escape any time soon. 

“I'm fine.” One day he'd learn she saw straight through his bullshit. 

“I'm just offering you a bit of control.” 

Cary was tired of the game being played between the two. They both knew how the night was going to end, certainly as she was standing half naked before him. There was no illusions they were both going to simply lie in bed with some imaginary line drawn between the two of them. She was frustrating the hell out of him, though he supposed that was what she was aiming for in the first place. She managed to be able to get what she wanted out of him. Not that he was some innocent victim. Cary was never innocent, and he sure as hell wasn't some kind of victim either. 

Without saying anything more he came to close the distance between the two of them. A look of determination was displayed across his face. His hands came to hold onto her neck as he crashed their lips together. Rougher than earlier on the couch. He didn't want gentle earlier and he wanted quite the opposite of gentle now, frustration running through his body, her willing to give more. He would come to question that later in a sober state of mind, but now, he hardly cared. All he wanted was her, to let a piece of him go, to not think about all of the worry, the lingering bits of trauma, that came with his past year. 

She moaned against his months, her hands feverishly working to get him out of his own pants, neither of them wearing very many layers anymore, but still too much clothing separately the both of them. 

He stepped out of his pants and moved towards the best, her back hitting it and him towering over her, not breaking the kiss. His teeth sunk into the flesh of her lower lip, moving his hands from her neck, to find her hands, pinning them above her head, clasped around her wrists. 

He quite liked the sight of her beneath him. It was a moment of power, one she granting him with, a shared moment, a trust. Trust that he didn't always have with someone else, another he chose to push from his mind, desperate to focus on nothing but Dana in the moment. Sexy Dana who was arching her body towards him to get more of what little he was giving her. 

All Cary did was smirk, looking down at her, holding her wrists. His lips brushed against hers, teasingly, giving her a kiss, but not allowing for his lips to linger. 

“You should've kept your tie on.” She whispered, lifting her head in an attempt to reach his lips, an attempt that she was not successful at. 

“I don't need a tie.” He had a very capable, grip, thank you. 

Dana wrapped her legs around him, able to feel just how much he desired her, and how he was certainly not at all turned off by this, against her. They were both only finding themselves more aroused with each passing action. 

He moved from her lips, along her jawline, down to the crook of her neck, a moment passed in which he just took her in. No feeling, no thinking, just allowing himself to be in the moment the two of them were sharing. He wanted to touch her, it becoming more of a need than a want, but he didn't, not yet, keeping her down against his bed. 

They fell into their old rhythm quite easily. A few minutes of talking about work, and then everything became more personal. Vodka was their drink of choice, occasionally tequila, but mostly, the vodka seemed to do the trick for the both of them. Their little moments of playing catch up were broken up with desires, stolen kisses, them losing their clothing piece by piece. 

It was as if weeks passed between the two of them, rather than years. 

“Did you seek me out for this?”He whispered the question into her ear. Cary didn't wait for her to answer as he broke the grasp he held on her to rid her of the rest of what was blocking from what they both really wanted. The games were fun, but nothing was quite as fun, or important in his entirely not sober mind, than being inside of her. Something he was so close to, yet, it seemed so far. 

“If I said yes?” 

Anyone else might've had an entirely different reaction than the smile that washed over him. “Been working on your manipulation skills?” 

“I always had them. I just didn't use them on you.” she whispered, her free hands dragging him down to kiss her. “I need you help.” 

It was a vulnerability that she didn't often showcase with him, with anyone, he assumes. Dana never struck him as someone who was soft. A few moments she proved him wrong, now and again. She was a woman with a power all her own, a woman who had a few years on him, and a woman who knew how to get what she wanted with no apologies. Cary wasn't under any illusion that this night meant something. Relationships rarely worked the second time around, always something to break two people apart. He wasn't living in some fairytale where one girl left him, and another from his past magically came back to fix the poor, broken white boy. 

If it wasn't Dana it would've been that girl at the end of the bar who kept her eyes on him for the most of the night. It was only different because of the not so little favor she needed from him. 

For now he was content on playing the little game if that meant he would get what he wanted, and maybe, he would give her what she wanted. He wasn't that same boy he used to be when he was slowly making his way through the State's Attorney's office. Moral clarity wasn't a thing that existed. Certainly not when he was a defense attorney, spending most of his time working the criminal cases he used to prosecute. It was all a big game. Most of the time it felt as if it didn't matter whether someone was guilty or whether someone was innocent. As long as everyone did their jobs. Someone always lost, but they were all just doing their job. 

Neither of them were the same, and he wouldn't want to be that same kid he was. The last year shaped him more than any year had before. He's different, in mentality, in attitude, even in physical appearance, never quite gaining that weight back from the stress of it all. 

Everything about moral clarity was a lie. 

Everything about becoming this decent person was nothing but a lie. 

At least in a city like Chicago. 

Bad things happened and it didn't matter as to whether you were a good person or a bad person. His father taught him that, shifting the hand whenever he had the chance. Cary did the best he could, he tried to impress, he tried to be that son maybe his father would be proud of. Even if he said it now, he'd never be able to believe him. He learned his way, he managed to find the man that he was always destined to be, and that false idea of moral clarity was gone, ripped away by the harsh realities of living the life he did in Chicago. 

He played a clean fight until that kind of fight wasn't going to get him anywhere. 

Nice and charming on the inside, completely different on the outside. 

It was then the thought of Will entered his mind. It was bad time, the worst really, thinking of his former boss, certainly as Dana was releasing him from his briefs, making good use of her free for the moment hands. The thoughts didn't stop though, not with how gone he was. Final. Anyone could come from back from all the political horrors the city could thrust upon someone. No one could come back from death. He didn't get to live his life as they were living now. And he wouldn't feel as awkward as he did, distracted from the one thing he wanted to focus on. 

The new Will. 

A thought he was only okay with as long he didn't end up dead and alone. 

He wasn't alone as he looked down at Dana. An unlikely bed companion, though more likely than any of the other two women in his life. Without saying anything again, he pins her hands above her head once more. Their lips meet and from there, any thoughts of past lovers, new friends, or former bosses are gone. It's her lips, the way she feels beneath him, those little sounds she makes that take all of his energies, his thoughts, only thinking of how he can get her to make more of those little sounds he remembers liking so much. 

Finally, the distraction he was desperate for did he get. The vodka numbed him in one way, but she numbed him in another way entirely. Her wrists were locked beneath the iron grip of his hand, clasping them together as his hand found his way to between her legs. That alone earned an appreciative moan, finding just how much she wanted him. 

Like he said, sex was never the thing that was broken between the two of them. Their bedroom activities had always been questionable at best. This is as normal as they get. 

Control, she called it. Power, he called it. 

She handed it to him and he's taking it. 

Their lips break and she whispered his name. A desperate search from the condom from the bedside table pulled him from the game, if only for a few moments. 

Neither of them lose, then again neither of them win. Not as he found himself buried inside of her. Something he thought of since they were in that elevator standing just a little too close. 

They moved together as if it was a race, harsh, fighting each other each step of the way, even with Dana unable to use her hands. The game found them again. It wasn't pretty, nor smooth, the lasting effects of the scotch and vodka making him reach for that ecstacy. 

Cary doesn't know whether he let go, or if she broke free, nor does he care. Certainly not when it would certainly lead to them bickering over which one of them was right. It would only lead them right back to this position. 

She flips him onto his back, finding herself on top of him, a position he was perfectly content with. Any man with eyes would be, watching her as she moved on top of him. She wasn't shy. A girl like Dana who talked about sex in nearly every conversation that doesn't have to do with work isn't shy about anything. 

He liked that. She moved like she was putting on a show for him. Hardly concerned for his pleasure, only her own, something far too sexy about that. Her taking what she wanted from him. He watched her unabashedly, moving with her, pulling her down to him for a kiss. 

She tasted like vodka and like him. The taste of alcohol is prominent on her breath. He missed that. Cary didn't really ever think of himself as missing Dana. Only now that was exactly what happened. He missed her, missed these moments, where they could just fuck in his room without him needing to think about everything else. There weren't any strings, but there weren't anything weighing down on them either. It was easy. He was easy, he had no problem admitting it. 

Sometimes you just needed easy. 

His senses shift into overdrive. No more thinking. No words. Just the two of them filling the room with sounds of their bodies moving together, the desperate whines, and the exhausted pants. Finding themselves working towards one thing, each for themselves, without anything for either of them to be apologetic about. 

As she reached her peak, moving with a new found reckless abandon, her teeth sunk into his lip, breaking through the flesh. Something he liked more than he thought he would, breaking him from the almost trance he found himself in. Falling from his high he sought her out, kissing her in something far gentler, savoring a moment. 

They both moved to catch their breaths, falling against the bed. The warmth they sought from the bitter cold now covered them both. Cary rid himself to the condo, finding himself with Dana lying on his chest soon afterward. He stroked her hair, shutting his eyes. For the first time in a long time he didn't think. One way or the other. He wasn't trying to rid his mind of something. He found a few moments of peace, while he was unsure how long they would last, he was willing to savor them. 

The silence hung in the air between them, and he was just as content with that she the thoughtless state his mind entered. It wasn't awkward or as if they needed to search for something to say, it was nice. 

Then Dana broke it. “Do you have food?” 

He smiled. “I have a drawer full of take out menus.” 

“Always the bachelor.” 

Cary laid in bed and watched as she moved from him, her body only lit by the faint lights of the city shining through his window. She reached for his shirt and put it. A sight he liked. A sight most guys liked. More or less because he'd just gotten laid. There weren't many things he didn't like, truthfully. In his state he was far more easy going than the normal, on the outside, Cary was. For now. He'd take for now. 

“Don't order anything weird.” 

She waved him off as she moved towards the door. 

Maybe come morning he would wonder what he was thinking, and that this entire night would be something he'd come to regret in the future, but now, he was viewing everything in something of a different light. Even if he was simply idealizing their past time spent together, she always offered him something that Kalinda never could. She was decently happy to be there with him and just him. She needed a favor, but she'd given him a moment of a different kind of clarity. It was the least he could do. 

“I'll help you.”

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr.](http://laurelsalexis.tumblr.com/)


End file.
